Chapter Thirty-Five
Daisy was in my dream last night. We sat at the desk, going through everything. I think I had it on my mind because Mom told me I should give it another look.
Before I woke to rain pelting hard against my window, I heard Daisy whisper, “Check inside and you’ll find the answer.”
Now that I’m awake, I message Cash. Had a wild dream last night. When will you be here? I have to tell you about it.
I can’t come right now.
Why? The fog?
My mom found out I’ve been coming to your place. I’m sorry Dahlia. I told her I’d been going for rides and helping Hank’s family hay their fields.
You never told her who I was??
A minute passes before he responds.
No. Now she’s mad at me because I didn’t think she would understand. Said I didn’t give her the chance to make up her own mind. She likes you and she hates that I lied about seeing you.
I stare out of the window at cattle, at the burnt orchard and at the barn.
I get it, I write. I could use some time today to go through the desk anyway.
Are you mad at me?
I don’t want to be, but yeah, I am.
I throw on a hoodie and run to the barn, water not splashing at my feet, but plenty of it dampening my hair. Last night was the first chilly night of September and we are now socked in with fog. I might as well be on an island, because I can’t even see the ranch house.
Now, here in the barn, is my chance to find the truth about this ranch and its legends. I know what I must do and I’m going to do it, come hell or high water.
Mom’s right. I feel a connection to this place that seems to be more than my imagination.
It’s violently interrupted when my phone vibrates.
I stare at the word “Dad”, scrolling across my lock screen – a selfie of me and Cash kissing in the orchard.
Why should I answer so he can tell me all the plans he has for my life, now that the cherries are gone?
With each step towards the desk, I let go of a little self-doubt and guilt. My gut tells me there’s an answer here. It has from the very beginning, and I’m going to find it.
I take everything out of the desk like Cash and I did weeks ago and lay it out on the ground.
I’m going to read every last piece of paper in here before I give up.
Once and for all, I’m going to go all the way with this.
I have nothing left to lose. Finally, I find the article I was sure I eventually would.
Daisy O’Connor, Rodeo Legend and Pinto Valley Local, Dies Tragically
Margaret Maureen O’Connor, more commonly known as Daisy O’Connor, was born on August 2, 1905, and died on the night of September 26th, in this year of our lord, 1926.
Pinto Valley police chief Dante Thompson concluded Daisy’s death to be suicide.
He stated she took her life and her horse’s when riding off a cliff.
The ranch has been in Daisy’s family since 1883 when it was homesteaded by her grandparents.
It was a thriving sheep ranch in the past. Daisy and Dottie have co-owned and operated the ranch since 1922 when their father, Abner, passed away from double pneumonia.
Their mother, Clara, passed away from unknown causes.
Margaret is survived by her sister, Dottie, who was a rodeo legend in her own right. Dottie declined to comment.
“Their mother passed away from unknown causes?” I scoff aloud, remembering the story about Earl.
I grab Daisy’s journal and flip through it, past what Cash and I already read, through all her entries about rodeoing and past where her mama died.
September 24, 1926
I’ve lost the love of my life. We loved so deeply, so truly, and I will love him always. I’ll never again kiss him under the stars or hold his hand. I’ll never again see his smile or his beautiful eyes. He was kind and generous and loved me like he’d never let go, but we were forced to let go.
I’m so sorry I got him stuck in the middle of this.
It never should have happened. Estrella came running back to the ranch without him in the saddle.
I rode Bandit all over and found his body in the middle of the sheep.
Bonnie was lying on his chest. He’d been lassoed round the neck and dragged off Estrella.
I brought him to the aspen grove, our favourite place. Near his grave, I carved our names into a tree with a heart. Mama always said she wanted us girls to be happy. What would make me happy is being with Joaquin.
Yesterday Earl cornered me in the mercantile again.
He had the nerve to call me Doll and bragged about ridding me of the “foreigner” I love so much.
He told me I have forty-eight hours to move my sheep off the ranch and let his cattle graze, or else.
Paying him off with my rodeo winnings never mattered.
I never expected to have to protect this place with my life.
Earl’s not going to stop until we’re gone. Or, until he is.
I read over the last entry again, I flip the last page back and forth, but there’s nothing else, only blank pages. She died two days after the last entry. Two days after Earl threatened her. A terrible sinking feeling aches in my gut. Earl murdered Joaquin. What really happened to Daisy?
This time, instead of searching about the grazing wars, I yank out my phone and type, Earl, Pinto Valley Colorado, 1926.
Immediately the name Earl William Drake comes up.
It says he was born in 1895 in Pinto Valley after his grandmother and grandfather came west from Virginia.
He raised cattle on their ranch and quickly became the largest meat supplier on the Western Slope of Colorado.
He was survived by his sister, Norma Gene Watson and nephew, George Watson. Norma, who inherited the family’s land and business, rebranded the cattle company Drake Watson Beef Co.
Drake Watson Beef Co. The company name circles inside my mind. I type it in next and tap on the website, and my eyes widen. Kaylee and Rhett sit side by side on their horses with a herd of cattle behind them. That’s the name of their company – Drake Watson Beef.
Chills race down my back. Earl is one of Kaylee’s ancestors, and he killed Joaquin.
I spread everything out, my mind racing over each letter, each article, what I know and still want to know. Then a piece of paper tied with lavender ribbon catches my eye. I swipe it from the ground and toss the ribbon to the side.
Dot,
Everything here reminds me of Joaquin, and the pain has become too great. I have the blue-sage seeds you gave me in my pocket. It may be my imagination, but I do feel they’ve helped me find some peace in this madness.
Still, I have to leave. I’m going to push what’s left of the sheep to the east mesa. It will take Earl a while to find them there. When he does, I’ll be there.
Love you and Charlie to the stars and back,
Daisy
The blue sage. It only grows below the cliffs. The cliffs where she died.